


Full Moon Ficlet #380 - Essay

by JoMouse



Series: Full Moon Ficlets [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Don't copy to another site, Drunk Writing, Graduate Student Derek Hale, M/M, Teacher's Assistant Derek Hale, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles learns the hard way not to drink and essay.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Full Moon Ficlets [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652395
Comments: 10
Kudos: 209
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #380: Essay





	Full Moon Ficlet #380 - Essay

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations!
> 
> Heading off to bed as soon as I post this, so no massive notes tonight.
> 
> Big huge massive thanks to my betas [Marie](HTTP://quietzap.tumblr.com) and Jenn for being so quick and supportive when it comes to my writing. I love you both very much!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this bit of silliness!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles stumbled into his dorm room late one Friday night near the end of the semester, surprised to see his roommate sitting at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop. “What’s up?” he asked, attempting to pull his hoodie off without unzipping it and getting stuck.

He was never going out drinking with Scott again; it never ended well for him and he usually ended up catching an Uber back to the dorm while Scott went off with some young co-ed. He blinked his eyes against the light when his hoodie was yanked from his arms, Isaac’s face appearing fond yet exasperated.

“You finished the essay for Art Appreciation, right?” he asked Stiles.

“Yeah..the one about the use of watercolors versus oils,” he mumbled as he tried to kick off his shoes and ended up falling backward onto the bed staring up at the ceiling.

“No, the descriptive essay,” Isaac corrected. “It was assigned in class yesterday, the class you missed because you were finishing the assignment for your World Folklore class. The assignment I put on your desk and reminded you about five or six different times in the last twenty-four hours. The essay that’s due in,” he looked at the time on his laptop, “less than two hours.”

Stiles lifted his head from the bed, the room spinning as he gaped at Isaac; he had not even started the essay he was talking about. Shoving himself to stand, he rubbed his hands together. He could bullshit an amazing essay in two hours. Not a problem. 

He dropped down at his desk and opened his laptop, the colors of the screen bright against his still-not-sober eyes. Leaning back, he reached into the minifridge next to his bed and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy drink. He downed the energy drink and started sipping on the water as he typed.

He managed to finish the essay with ten minutes to spare and sent it off without double-checking it beyond what Grammarly caught for him. As soon as he hit send, he dropped onto his bed and passed out, the essay already forgotten.

Monday afternoon, Stiles was sitting in the student union eating curly fries and working on an assignment for his Statistics class when an email notification popped up in the corner of his screen. It was from Derek Hale, the graduate assistant that taught his section of Art Appreciation plus the star of many of Stiles’ masturbatory fantasies. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten an email from him, Derek sent out emails occasionally announcing art installations that the class might be interested in, but the subject of this email was: Office Hours.

Opening the email, he saw it was addressed only to him:

_ Mr. Stilinski, _

_ I have office hours today from 2 until 4. Please come see me to discuss your descriptive essay. _

_D. Hale_

Checking his phone, he saw that it was just after two so he packed up his books and headed over to the Arts building, curiosity peaked as he tried to remember the essay. It was a bit foggy except that he’d been rushed and drunk. He just hoped he’d picked a decent piece of art to write about.

The door to Derek’s office was open and he knocked on the door frame. Derek looked up from his desk and Stiles froze. Sitting on his face were a pair of dark thick-rimmed glasses that he’d never seen before and somehow made his already beautiful eyes glow. “You wanted to see me?” he said when he caught his breath. “About my essay?”

“Er, yes,” Derek said, shuffling papers and Stiles thought he saw pink on the tips of his ears, but chalked it up to the heat of the building. “It wasn’t up to your normal standards, so I wanted to give you a chance to revise before I finalize the grade.”

He winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Well, it was definitely  _ descriptive, _ ” he said, handing over a printed copy of the paper and Stiles took it from him, scanning the pages.

He’d chosen to describe the statue of David and he started off pretty well, staying factual on materials used and details. The more he read, the more the coherency of his writing declined. He was already feeling embarrassed for turning it in when he reached the last line:  _ The Statue of David is Derek Hale immortalized in marble down to every last detail. _

“Um…”

“Yeah,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can have until class begins tomorrow to revise it.”

Stiles nodded. “Definitely. I’m so sorry-”

Derek held up a hand. “It’s mostly a compliment.” 

“I’m sure my exhausted, drunken brain meant it that way,” Stiles assured, feeling his own cheeks burning.

“Although, there is one detail where it might not be accurate.”

“The hair, right? I mean, obviously you aren’t that curly,” Stiles said, gathering his things together.

“I was thinking a bit lower,” Derek said, standing from his desk and Stiles’ eyes traveled over him. 

“Pecs. Check. Abs. Check.” Stiles looked back up into his eyes and Derek raised his eyebrows at him and flicked his gaze down again. He followed his glance to find Derek had hooked his hands into his front pockets, pulling the fabric tight against himself. “So...what’s the policy on grad students fraternizing with students in their sections?” he asked without looking up until Derek chuckled.

“It’s frowned upon,” he responded and Stiles’ heart fell until Derek’s lips curled into a smirk. “However, as of next Thursday, you’ll no longer be in my section.”

“So...?”

“So, Friday night, seven o’clock, Antoni’s Pizza?” Derek asked, leaning over the desk to slide a piece of paper with a phone number over to him. Stiles mirrored him until their noses almost touched. “Work for you?”

“Definitely,” Stiles said, smirking and licking his lips before grabbing the slip of paper and darting out of the office, already counting down the minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm josjournal over there!


End file.
